Here's my face without the filter, here's my flaws in HD
Every crooked, honest inch of the unposted me
I deleted the pretender that I painted for the crowd
Turns out the truth's a good look and it wears itself out loud

I built a shinier stranger out of angles and of light
Fed him perfect little mornings that I never lived at night
He got the likes I hungered for, he lived the life I faked
Then I got so tired of guarding a museum that's a mistake

So I let the seams show gladly, let the paint begin to peel
There's a strange and stubborn freedom in the simple word for real

Here's my face without the filter, here's my flaws in HD
Every crooked, honest inch of the unposted me
I deleted the pretender that I painted for the crowd
Turns out the truth's a good look and it wears itself out loud

That highlight reel I envied was a costume, not a life
Behind the perfect picture there's the same old lovely strife
I'd rather be a real thing that a friend can lean upon
Than a flawless little idol that dissolves by early dawn

Ninth commandment, plainly: the edited you cannot be loved.
Only met.
Show the seam, keep the friend — the filter never held a hand.

The bravest thing I posted had no makeup and no plan
Just a true and ordinary picture of a happy, flawed man

Now my face is just my face and my flaws are in the frame
And the people who stayed with me learned the honest little name
I retired the pretender, let the polished idol fall
And the realest, simplest version turned out lovable to all